Obsession
by FadingGrin
Summary: Ariadne, during and after the Fischer job.


They're all she sees nowadays. Bridges and buildings and dizzyingly tall skyscrapers. Her dreams are filled with Penrose stairs and mirror hallways and she cannot stop -_does not want to stop-_ and it really should scare her but for some reason it doesn't. She's pretty certain that her subconscious is filled with three piece suits and chameleons by now, walking past kind smiles and chemical stains under bought airplanes. It should worry her, she knows. She saw Mal, after all, has seen Yusuf's backroom, full of people living in dreams but somehow, she still cannot bring herself to care. She remembers the thrill, the rush, the pure _sensation_ of bending Paris, of playing God and having the world cupped in her trembling palms and she -_can't, not after that first dream with Cobb_- doesn't want to let it go. The team warns her of the price of extraction, but she thinks –_knows, better then she knows the weight of her totem in her hand_- the dreams are worth any price.

Cobb notices it first, and it doesn't come as a surprise that he says nothing. Ariadne is grateful nonetheless. Cobb knows what it is like to have the power to mold reality, but he has faith in her ability to get out of it should things turn ugly. He keeps his silence, but the PASIV is never left lying around after.

The next to notice is, surprisingly, Eames. But it really shouldn't surprise her, she thinks. It is Eames's job to read people and he is, under all the flirt and bravado, -_frighteningly good, like a mirror she can't quite bring herself to look at_- the best in the business. He, too, keeps his silence because while he is not an Architect, he knows the siren song that is dreaming. She would not even know he knows, if not for a dream they shared in the pale half-light of morning when he told her to create something that could not exist in the real world, and taught her how to leave it behind her when she woke up.

Arthur is the last to notice her passion –_obsession_- and also the only one to confront her about it. He speaks in quiet, measured words, tells of a time when he had been something other than a Point Man, when he too, had felt the lure of creation. He warns her of dreams, of their deceptive nature –_but she knows, oh she __**knows**__, it is why she can't let go_- and Ariadne sees a brief flicker of longing in his eyes. They do not speak of it again, but she makes sure that she never tips her totem in front of Arthur again.

When the job is done and they all part ways, she carves their faces into her memory. She is the last to leave the airport, lingering there for a moment, taking in details –_which she really shouldn't be doing, it was a one-time deal and she is a good girl, not a criminal_-because she has never been here and she is curious. She hails a cab and goes to the nearest hotel. It's not a high end establishment and she gets more than a few odd looks but it suits her needs.

The room is drab, and the architect in her is horrified at the design of it, but she is too tired to care. She falls on the bed, shoes and all and falls asleep clutching her totem in her hand. Her sleep is fitful, too light to support dreaming and she is nearly grateful for it. The next morning, she books the first flight back to Paris and leaves the dingy hotel behind without a second glance.

Her old flat is exactly as she left it, messy and slightly too small. It is full of coursework and drawings and budget calculations. She closes the door and walks to the nearest broker. She has moved to a lovely flat along the seine a week later. Weeks pass, turning into months, and still she does not dream. To be fair, she does not sleep much either, busy as she is –_she does not exactly want to, it is merely something to drive away the lethargy_- finishing her schooling.

Her first dream comes a week after her graduation. It is a confusing affair, a fuzzy recollection of birds and gold and her mothers' disapproving face. She doesn't fall asleep again. Her next dream is clearer, almost disturbingly so.

She is trapped in a maze, walking beside Eames. She is holding a red string and he is covered in blood. They walk carefully, hand in hand through hallways but when they arrive to the exit, he runs through it without looking back. The sun blinds her, until she realizes that it is not the sun, but a human, falling down from the sky in bright flames, a man trying desperately to catch her before she falls into the inky sea. She thinks she sees children playing on the cliffs, just before the woman falls behind them and the man crumbles, weeping. She turns around and Arthur is there, but it is not him. He is wilder and looks at her in a way she doesn't quite like. The not-Arthur leans closer and says **"**Quick, give me a kiss**"** but it does not feel right and she can't find her totem and she backs away. The not-Arthur's eyes flash and suddenly she is tied with her red string, tied so tightly she cannot breathe and Arthur is holding the other end of the string and she is falling, falling…

She wakes up amidst sweaty sheets and locates the source of the buzzing. She does not recognize the caller, but she has a feeling of who it might be. When Arthurs voice echoes through the phone, asking if she's interested in a job, she does not –_cannot_- hesitate. Few hours later, washed and dressed and nursing a black coffee she is at a warehouse, different from the last time, but similar enough. Eames is lounging around on a bench and Arthur is typing on his laptop. Her totem falls to the floor with a heavy, solid '**thunk'** which turns their attention to her. Arthur nods and Eames grins and she is very careful not to think of her dreams.


End file.
